


Warning Lights

by EverlivingGhosts



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Disasters, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/pseuds/EverlivingGhosts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Cabin Crew Riot 2. Based on the prompt 'Survival'- we had to base ours on an island.<br/>When G-ERTI suffers a major mechanical fault and crash lands onto an island, who will survive?<br/>I might write more for this fic one day! :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It happened so fast that the crew at MJN at first had no idea what was going on. One moment Martin was spectacularly losing a word game with Douglas , whilst trying to wrestle his hat off Arthur who was insisting he ‘improve it’ with some fabric pens he had found under one of G-ERTI’s chairs. The next, all four were thrown from their seats as G-ERTI gave a colossal jerk, all warning lights flashing simultaneously and a horrible screech emanating from somewhere. Douglas was the first to rise, which was quite a feat as the plane was starting to spin out of control.  
“Douglas, Douglas what the hell is going on?!” Carolyn was trying to disentangle herself from a very shocked looking Arthur who was gripping tightly to her arm. Douglas was searching the many buttons and levers frantically.  
“I don’t know! There must have been an impact, I-“  
Martin joined him, his already pale face draining of what little colour it had.  
“Douglas, we’re losing altitude fast-“  
“I can see that, Sir!” Douglas snapped and instantly regretted it. Martin’s mouth tightened as he reached for the radio.  
“ATC, ATC, emergency, we have an emergency!” Douglas grabbed frantically at a lever and for one mad moment G-ERTI began to steady. Carolyn looked ready to heave a mighty sigh of relief, when the plane began to lurch once more to the ground. Martin looked frantically at Douglas.  
“There’s no answer, there’s no answer! Oh God, oh God, oh GOD!”   
Douglas placed his hand on Martin’s trembling shoulders, the red glow from the warning lights illuminating his unusually solemn expression.  
“Martin, it’s been a pleasure,” Arthur gave a groan from the ground and Martin’s face shone with tears. Carolyn was giving a look to Arthur most unusual to her face; a look of deep love and regret.  
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, and you too Arthur and Carolyn.” The rest of the crew could only nod as they grabbed each others arms and braced for impact.

***  
Brightness. Screaming. Agony. Burning.  
Those were the sensations Martin felt as the blackness he had fallen into slowly dissolved into a kind of blurry light. When he became fully aware of his surroundings, he realised something that frightened him most of all.  
He was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Martin’s left arm burned when he tried to move it, but he knew he had to clear the debris around him and look for the others; he refused to think of them as ‘bodies’. As Martin rose from the smouldering remains of G-ERTI, he dryly reflected that he must be the only phenomenally unlucky person to have been lucky enough to survive a plane crash. He carefully sifted through blackened metal with his right arm, ignoring the many scratches on his body that stung smartly through the rips in his once pristine uniform. Surely the others had to be close? He had to sit down soon; he could feel his head begin to spin. When he got to the outer edge of the disaster zone, he saw something that made him clap a hand to his mouth to stifle a manic giggle. One of G-ERTI’s chairs, against all odds, had somehow managed to land the right way up and stood merrily with only minor scorch marks on the sandy floor. He really should stop giggling, it was a disaster for God’s sake! But the hysterical laughter soon descended into sobs. 

The island they had crash-landed on was mockingly serene; for a while Martin’s sobs were the only thing heard, echoing dimly around the wreckage. Suddenly, in between sobs, Martin thought he heard a small scraping noise. He lifted himself up from the impossible chair and made his way over to what he assumed was one of G-ERTI’s wings. He stepped on something on the floor which gave a horrible crunch. With a sickening jolt which set his heart beating painfully fast, he realised that he had stepped on Arthur’s ridiculous hat. He bent down to pick it up but jumped as he heard a very weak voice ask,  
“S..Skip?” It was coming from under the wing. Martin approached it with dread, especially shocked how Arthur’s usually exuberant voice could be so soft and frail. He bent down and spotted a mop of brown curls pressed to the ground; Arthur was stuck.   
“Arthur, are you...are you ok?” Martin winced at the stupidity of his comment, but Arthur merely gave a sharp intake of breath and he saw the head try and move round to face him.  
“SKIP! Oh Skip, I thought, I thought…oh poor GERTI…”   
“Shh, shh Arthur,” Martin soothed. He gave a sad sort of smile.  
“I have control.”   
He heard Arthur give a small laugh despite the enormity of the situation. Martin bent down and leaned into the gap where he could see Arthur’s face pressed to the ground.  
“Arthur I need you to listen closely. I’m going to try and pull you out. I can’t promise it’s not going to hurt but-“  
Arthur cut in loudly   
“It’s fine Skip, I trust you! You must know how to lift things, what with being a man with a van. OOH! I bet you’ll be able to lift the whole wing and…”  
Martin didn’t have the heart to interrupt him; in fact he decided that it was probably best that Arthur was distracted for the moment. He reached through the gap and gave a mighty heave. He almost stopped as he heard a terrible wail emerging from Arthur, but gritted his teeth and carried on; it wouldn’t help either of them if he stopped. Martin decided he must have had an almighty amount of adrenaline in his body as Arthur slipped from under the wing with a kind of bumpy grace, causing Martin to lose his footing and land on the hard island floor. He realised Arthur had gone oddly silent and peered over at his body. What he saw made him gasp anew: one of his legs had clearly been badly trapped under the debris and showed a horrible gash that was bleeding profusely, adding a grim shade of scarlet to his otherwise cheery stewards uniform. Martin took his hand, noticing that Arthur’s eyes were scrunched up in pain.  
“Arthur? Arthur stay with me!”  
“Oh Skip, it hurts. I think I need a doctor.”   
Oh God, why was it Martin who had found Arthur? Why couldn’t it have been Douglas, the ex-medical student, the man who knew how to fix everything? Martin could only gulp with guilt and shame. Arthur suddenly tried to sit up and gripped his hand even tighter, an unusually sober expression on his face.  
“Martin, am I going to die?”   
Martin couldn’t help it, tears began cascading down his face and he tried so hard to lie, to say what he wanted to hear.  
“Oh Arthur, I don’t think…I hope no-“  
“Because it’s ok, you know.” Martin could only stare at him in shock.  
“Not many people can say they’ve died doing the things they love, you know or,” He shot a shy glance at Martin.  
“With the people you love.” 

The only thing that could be heard after this statement was the gentle rush of waves in the distance, a cruel, melancholy sound. Martin looked at Arthur Shappey splayed on the ground, at his poor injured body, at his shining hopeful face, and decided that he would not allow such a beautiful and pure human being to die. Not as long as he was, despite the still smouldering wreckage on the ground, Captain Martin Crieff.  
“I will not let that happen, Arthur. Come on, let’s get you bandaged up.” Despite Arthur’s protests, he ripped a strip off his Captain’s uniform, it was damaged anyway, and besides Arthur needed it more than he did. He wound the strip around Arthur’s leg. At least he knew how to tie a knot, he thought bitterly as the makeshift bandage was soon stained red.   
“Well Arthur, we’re going to have to get you up on your feet, need to make a camp or something. “ After a small struggle, Martin practically carried Arthur off of the floor, which was slightly difficult considering Arthur was much taller than he was. But he managed it, he proudly reflected as they made their way over to a part of the island shaded by trees. Halfway there, Martin felt a jolt as Arthur bent down to pick something up. When he straightened, Martin shot him a look and he merely answered.  
“There was a bottle on the floor. How can we possibly get rescued, Skip, if we don’t send a message in a bottle?”

***  
That evening, Martin and Arthur stood at the edge of the sand, desolately staring into an otherwise majestic sunset. Martin wasn’t sure how much hope he had left, and Arthur had ignored his gentle warnings that Douglas and Carolyn might not be found. Arthur was positive that if anyone could survive the challenge of an island it was tough Carolyn and resourceful Douglas. Martin did, however, reluctantly agree with this. Arthur had shown a surprising amount of strength with his injured leg, clearly displaying some of the strength that Carolyn was imbued with and he leaned against Martin with ease. He was clutching the bottle in his hand complete with a piece of paper inside. Luckily, Arthur had some paper in his pocket and a pen which he claimed was his ‘emergency pen’, though Martin was sure he’d never seen Arthur actually need a pen during his stewardly duties before. He had let Arthur write a note, unwilling or just unable to burst his hopeful bubble, but he secretly hoped Arthur’s unlikely plan would work. They both watched as the bottle bobbed serenely away from the island, two small sentinels clinging onto the only hope they had in the amounting darkness. 

 

 

I hope you've enjoyed this! It was a very angsty prompt, but who am I kidding- I love a bit of angst :) Thank you very much!


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